The Sun (Malaysia)

Mo’ money, mo’ problems

> Singers always have issues with their accountant­s messing up their finances and bank accounts

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MY WIFE says I’m listening to too much rap, but I told her: “Imma not, sista, Imma good mista, where my homeboy at?”

Rap ‘music’ was on my mind when a reader told me about blond California­n rapper Kreayshawn who tweeted that tax authoritie­s had emptied her bank account but it was all her accountant’s fault.

No doubt she’ll soon tell the story in a rap ‘song’: “It ain’t ma fault, I blame da accountant, he took ma moola as I said in ma announceme­nt.”

And then actress Heather Dubrow told reporters that her accountant enticed her to invest in a dodgy deal which left her broke. I guess she can reprise her Desperate Housewife role with real feeling now.

And then a star from TV’s Jersey Shore whose name is The Situation (presumably his close friends call him “The”) also blamed his accountant for his financial problems.

What gives? Are all entertainm­ent accountant­s criminals? So it seemed, until your columnist did some factchecki­ng. Kreayshawn later removed all her accusatory tweets about her moneyman. The small print in the desperate housewife case revealed that the advisor was not an accountant: she just thought he was. And the advisor to The Situation turned out to have “once been” an accountant.

Accountant­s are a bit like police officers and teachers: they get unfairly blamed for everything.

When folk say accountant­s are boring, I point to Gibby Haynes. He did an accounting degree, was named Accounting Student of the Year, and became an auditor at Peat Marwick. But he was also leader of a successful punk rock band that was so wild, radio stations refused to play their songs. They are known as B.H. Surfers (full name unprintabl­e in a polite publicatio­n like this one). Not sure if he still does accounting. Newsflash: I read that the rap star known as 50 Cent has filed for bankruptcy, which means that he technicall­y is not worth 50 cents.

One should never rejoice in someone’s misfortune, but you have to laugh and dance around the table a bit, right?

But a question for any accountant­s reading this came from a Twitter friend who likes to be known as @ WeirdWorld: “What if dogs are way smarter than we think and they just play dumb so they don’t have to work and pay taxes?”

I told him that that was a ridiculous thing to think about dogs. Cats, yes.

Anyway, back to the topic of rap singing. I’m going to start a band called Condemned Building Don’t Enter so that after the posters go up everywhere, the whole population will be living in the streets, ready for my open-air concert.

I’ll make a quick fortune, blow it all on hedonism and then blame my accountant. It’s the done thing, right?

If you don’t get rap, try translatin­g it into British English.

Original: “You ain’t clockin’ me, mutha, hittin’ on my honies, brotha, Imma take you out, uhhuh, uh-huh.”

Translatio­n: “I would rather you didn’t look at me, sir, as I demonstrat­e affection towards my female companions, my friend, or I may have to bring your life to a premature close, what ho.”

Nury Vittachi is an Asia-based frequent traveller. Send ideas and comments to lifestyle. nury@thesundail­y.com.

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